


Compromis(ed)

by The_lovely_noodles



Series: Unfortunate [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hunk got hurt in a minor way, Hurt Lance, Hurt/Comfort, I completely forgot about romelle lmfao, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith has a slowly developing crush on Lance, Lance (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance processes trauma differently than Keith, Langst, M/M, Medical Procedures, Non canon compliant, Shiro just wants them both to be safe, Slow Burn, Slow burn Shklance, Tumblr Prompt, badthingshappenbingo, hurt keith, klangst, mature for cursing and deep themese, non explicit biopsy, shklangst, strapped to a table, yeah im a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 23:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16169066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_lovely_noodles/pseuds/The_lovely_noodles
Summary: Keith struggles to parse together what went down on Baxzel and what's going on between Shiro and Lance.  Meanwhile the Lions land on an unnamed planet only to be ambushed and for things to go awry.





	Compromis(ed)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Back!!! Here's another one! It's not explicit Klance because I'm pretty bad at hurting and romance? But I'm getting around to it. Keith gets kinda dorky near the end lmao you'll see.

They’re on the move again and this time, there’s silence.  The moment that Lance woke up from stress sleeping on Shiro he threw himself back into normality; except there’s silence now, a lot more than any of the paladins want to admit there is. 

 

Turns out, flying arduously slow in space with nothing but the comms open and uncomfortable silence makes crackling, awkward, tension.  Keith was okay with it, keyword being  _ was  _ because he knows where Lance’s silence is coming from.  

 

Shiro didn’t detail it to him, but the way he cried, held Lance close to him and the deep red needle cuffs detailed to Keith that whatever went down with the Braxel-whatsits wasn’t good.  

 

So they’re in relative silence.  Relative, because Hunk is nervously trying to fill the silence with what he’s planning to make for dinner, sometimes he’d talk about Earth food and would say, “Right Lance?”  to try to prod Lance into speaking. It’d never work. 

 

“So now that we know the Coalition is a bust or something, I was thinking we can refuel on some other planet and we can make it a taco Tuesday.  How does Taco Tuesday sound Pidge?” 

 

“That sounds great Hunk, it looks like we do need to get stock up on more supplies before we go on our next long stretch.  There’s an uninhabited planet not too far from here that we can land on.” 

 

“Lance.”  Keith finds himself saying, “What do you think?”  

 

There’s several beats of silence, it morphs into discomfort and a tick of irritation burrows into the back of Keith’s head.  

 

“Lance?”  He says again, there’s a harsher than normal edge to his voice and Lance makes a grunting noise.  

 

“Mm What?”  Lance’s voice is hoarse and disconnected, “W-where am I?” 

 

“You’re in the Red Lion.”  Keith answers carefully, pursing his lips, “Did you just wake up?”  

 

“Dozed off.”  Lance says, his voice low, “What were we talking about again?”  

 

“We’re landing on a planet to restock.” Pidge says, “We’re wondering what you think of the decision.”  

 

Lance lets out a short derisive laugh, “Since when has it been my job to think about decisions?”  

 

_ “Lance.”  _ Hunk starts, worried.  

 

“It doesn’t matter.”  Lance says, his voice dejected, “It never really is my decision isn’t it?”  

 

“We were just wondering what you think.”  Pidge ventures and Lance sighs over the comms.  

 

“Yeah, as if.”  Keith hears him mutter and Keith feels a whirl of both irritation and concern in his stomach, hates Lance’s spiteful flippant tone.  

 

“Listen Lance, if you want to talk, we’re here but don’t go around saying things like that.”  Keith finds himself saying and there’s a deadly drop of silence on the other end of the comms.  

 

“Lance,”  Allura’s voice, always soft enters the comms, “He’s right.  If you want to talk, we are here.” 

 

There’s still more silence.  Keith turns to briefly look at Shiro and his mom, they both look equally tense at Lance’s silence and Keith turns back to the still waveform that represents Lance’s voice.  

 

“Whatever.”  Lance mutters again and there’s a distinct click and Lance’s comm cuts off.  

 

Keith rolls his eyes, rubs his face, stress sliding onto his bones like lead.   He looks over at Shiro, who gives him a reproachful stare. 

 

“Don’t do this to me Shiro.”  Keith says with a sigh of his own, “We can’t have the team falling apart.”  

 

“You have to give him time.”  Shiro says, his voice is sad and exhausted, his dark grey eyes downcast, “He went through a lot.”  

 

“That’s pretty vague.”  Keith says, folding his arms, “That’s the thing, we don’t know what A lot means.  He has to tell us and you won’t even talk about it!” 

 

Shiro sighs again, looking even more sad and downtrodden and Keith feels a whirl of guilt in his chest, the urge to reach out and comfort him, thread his fingers through Shiro’s hair and tell him it’s gonna be alright.  

 

“I-- I’m not sure what he was feeling back on Baxzel.”  Shiro says cautiously, “I could try to reach him.” 

 

“How are you going to reach him?”  Keith asks, folding his arms tighter across his chest and Shiro smiles.  

 

“Being in the Black Lion for so long has side effects.  I-- I think I can hear everyone’s emotions and the lions.”  Shiro says, he sounds sheepish. 

 

“How do you know, Shiro?”  Keith asks and Shiro rubs the back of his head.  

 

“I may or may not have connected with Lance’s emotions directly.”  Shiro says, “He’s kinda loud in my head.” 

 

As if on cue, Shiro grimaces, and presses a palm into his eye.  He stretches his jaw and closes his eyes, staying quiet for a couple of seconds before opening them again.  

 

“Who was that?”  Keith asks suddenly, curiosity spiking in him like a heart monitor.  

 

“Lance.”  Shiro says, sitting back, “Like I said, he’s louder than the rest of you.”  

 

“What’s he thinking?” 

 

“I can’t read his thoughts.”  

 

“What’s he feeling?”  

 

A pause.  

 

“Sad? I think.  I can’t place it.  Sometimes all of your feelings become mine.  I can’t tell which are my emotions and which aren’t.”  

 

“Nervous, maybe.”  Keith says thoughtfully, Shiro shakes his head.  

 

“Lance’s anxiety is palpable.  More… scared, but in a memory sort of way.”  

 

Shiro’s facial expression shifts, then becomes unreadable.  He’s deep in thought, and there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes.  

 

“He’s remembering.”  Shiro says finally and he looks even more tired than ever, “Remembering Baxzel.”  

 

_ But I don’t know what happened on Baxzel.   _ Keith thinks and he feels nervous, jealous almost-- Lance wouldn’t share his emotions with him, Shiro wouldn’t tell him what happened to Lance.  He looks down at the Black Lion’s floor, gritting his teeth, there’s a brush against the forefront of his consciousness and Keith gasps, looking up at Shiro in surprise.  It’s not unwelcome, but it is unfamiliar and Keith shudders and shivers-- it feels as if someone is brushing a hand over the back of his head. 

 

“Is that you?”  Keith finds himself asking and Shiro gives him another sheepish smile.  

 

“I think I scared Lance when I did the same thing.”  

 

“It scared me.”  Keith lets out a short burst of nervous laughter, “Shit.”  

 

_ “Ugh!”   _ Pidge suddenly crackles over the comms, “This game you three are playing is getting annoying-- get to the good part already!”  

 

“Pidge!”  Keith yells, heat rising in his cheeks, “Stay out of it!” 

 

He hears a raspberry on the other end and when he turns again Shiro smiles at him.  

 

Keith feels another hot flush in his chest, teeth clenching with how red he feels.  

 

_ Give him time... _ something seems to remind him,  _ he needs time.   _

 

Okay, Keith thinks--  _ I’ll give him time.   _

 

________

 

“What’s the name of this planet anyway?”  Hunk asks as the Lions start to go within the planet’s orbit.  

 

“It doesn’t have any known name.”  Pidge says, “If it does I don’t know it.”  

 

“Well I say we name it Planet Fruit Loops.”  Hunk says and Keith raises an eyebrow. 

 

“Why Fruit Loops?”  

 

“Dunno, it looks like a Fruit Loops sort of planet.”  

 

It makes sense, the planet is mostly desert, save for a couple of patches of forest, but the surface has rivulets of rainbow color, like rivers cutting through it.  If only Lance had any input on the name, but he doesn’t, choosing to stay quiet on his now reopened comms. 

 

The Lions land in a patch of forest and Hunk jumps out of his lion, pulling off his helmet with a bright inhale.  

 

“Alright! I’m gonna need your help Pidge.  I need you to scan which plants are safe and which aren’t and we can get to harvesting.”  

 

Keith is stretching, Kosmo pokes his hip with his snout.  Keith ruffles Kosmo’s head for a moment before turning to Hunk. 

 

“Do you need help Hunk?” 

 

“Not really Keith,” Hunk says cheerfully, “Pidge and I got this covered, you can hang around while we do this.”  

 

Hunk winks at him and Keith purses his lips.  It’s a cue to try to talk to Lance. 

 

Speaking of Lance-- Keith looks around, sees Lance leaning against the paw of the Red lion, arms folded.  

 

It  _ has _ been a while. Keith finds himself thinking, maybe Lance changed in more ways than one.  His hair seems longer, he looks paler and his eyes are downcast. 

 

He seems angrier.  

Keith kicks at the dirt awkwardly and he shuffles over to where Lance is standing and Lance looks up, his expression guarded.  

 

“So, Lance.”  Keith starts, “I want to know, how are you doing?” 

 

Lance kicks the dirt with his toe, looking down again, even quieter now than he’s ever been.  

 

“Shiro tells me that you seem nervous.”  Keith ventures and Lance snaps his head up, a flash of panic on his face.  

 

“Well…” Lance says, petulant and he doesn’t finish the sentence and Keith can see him shut down.  

 

“You can talk to me.”  Keith says. 

 

“It doesn’t matter.”  Lance mutters and Keith places a hand over his face.  

 

“Of course it matters.”  

 

“No it doesn’t.”  Lance says, “I-- I just gotta get over it you know? Universe can’t have a compromised soldier you know.”  

 

_ Compromised.   _ Keith swallows, the awkward line between them becomes taut. 

 

“Is it because of what happened on Baxzel?”  Keith ventures again and Lance looks away. Keith remembers the cuffs, collar, the hundreds of metallic bloody needles.  If keith squints he can see the row of bruising dots on Lance’s throat. 

 

“It isn’t your fault you know.”  Keith says, “You’re not… compromised.”  

 

Lance presses his hands over his face again, nods listlessly.  

 

“I keep telling myself that I’ll get over it.”  Lance mumbles, his eyes, a bright blue are glazed over, watering with tears, “but I can’t stop thinking about it, or dreaming about it.”  

 

Lance looks away, shoulders shaking and Keith wants to embrace him, allow him to cry but the moment Keith moves Lance starts to shuffle away.  

 

“I-- I need time.”  Lance says, voice wavering, “I-- please Keith, just go.”  

 

Keith feels a punch to his gut, his teeth clenching and his stomach whirling with a sense of tenderness and grief.  

 

“You can talk to me when you’re ready.”  Keith says, his voice unsteady, “Alright?”  

 

Lance seems to nod, but he’s shuffling farther away, shielding his face away from Keith.  

 

He turns again and there’s a sharp pain in his neck.  Keith blinks, raises his hand to his neck and finds a dart embedded in the skin.  Keith tries to turn, warn Lance to watch out but he makes a gurgling noise before he falls like a rock and his vision fades to black.  

 

___________

 

When Keith wakes up again, his armor is gone.  Keith groans, sensation flooding his limbs again and he tries to move his wrist only to find that he can’t.  

 

Keith turns his head, and when he can wiggle his toes again, finds that there’s a collar around his neck.  He can’t raise his head, his body is cold now that the flight suit is gone. Apparently whoever removed it had the decency to keep his boxers on.  

 

“Hey!”  Keith shouts, he tries looking around, finds that he’s in a room that looks relatively run down, “Hey! Where am I?! Hey!”  

 

His determination turns to anger, when he finds his bayard he’s going to kill whoever did this to him.  

 

The doors to the room slide open and a short cat like figure enters the room, eyes pink and glowing not too unlike the Galra. 

 

“Ah, finally, it’s awake.”  The voice is deep and they don’t seem to have any discernible mouth.  

 

“What the fuck is happening?”  Keith spits at the creature, “Why am I here? What are you doing?”  

 

The cat gives him an observant stare, pink glowing eyes raking along his form.  

 

“Subject pulse rate 100 clicks per dobosh.”  The cat says looking over at what appears to be a mirror and Keith tries to follow his eyeline, squinting.  

 

Keith yanks his arm up, held back by the cuffs clenching his teeth and tensing when he skin settles against the cold metal.  

 

“What are you doing?!”  Keith bellows, anger once again erasing the cold sensation against his skin, the bare insecure feeling in his gut.  

 

“Shh!”  The cat says briefly, Keith closes his mouth, hating how his skin is raw sensation, hating the reaction.  

 

“What-- Who are you?!”  

 

The cat looks over him again, questioning.  

 

“You weren’t aware of your rare physiology?”  The cat asks lightly, “I am not entirely sure of what your base species is, but you are surely part Galra.  The base species is almost completely incompatible with the Galra.”

 

“What are you talking about?”  Keith asks and the cat strides over to what appears to be a headlamp, swings it over his eyes.  Keith squints, the bright light forcing him to shut his eyes. 

 

“Optic response similar to that of Galran, spot holes contract to reaction to light.”  The cat says again. 

 

“Amazing.  It’s almost as if you’re born from a miracle.”  The cat says, “The genetic code between your base species and the Galra are so dissimilar, it’s a shock that none of your enzymic reactors haven’t completely collapsed.”  

 

“Where are the others?”  Keith demands and the cat twitches its ears.  

 

“The Galran, the Alteans and those other creatures of your species?”  The cat makes a bored expression at the mention of Keith’s friends, “They’re being placed under observation, but you are unlike any of them.”

 

Keith yanks on his restraints again, hating how his chest heaves, how panic spirals into his blood.  The collar-- it’s gotta be choking him-- Keith lets in another rattling gasp, eyes wide and panicked.  

 

“Fucking-- let me go!”  Keith yanks his head up, gagging when the collar pushes on his trachea.  

 

“Fascinating!” The cat says, “There’s a slowdown in many of your Enzymic reactions, instead a high concentration of ions are being produced! They seem to be fueling you!”  

 

“‘Course it is!”  Keith spits, yanking again, a wash of rage flooding his blood, “It’s called adrenaline.”  

 

“Is it Galra in nature or your base species in nature?”  

 

“Fuck off!”  

 

The cat seems to be puffing up with excitement. 

 

“We have to do more tests on your base species!  Each one of them have such genetic diversity,  _ and so very different  _ from Alteans and Galra.  It’s almost brand new!” 

 

_ “You’re not gonna fucking touch them!”   _ Keith yanks again, harder this time, hears the metal table underneath him groan under the strain.  He feels a sharp twinge of satisfaction when the ears of the Cat lower in alarm. 

 

“A Galran response! Optics and physiology changes when angry!”  The cat says, his voice panicked. 

 

Keith pulls again, listening to the groan of the metal and he pulls harder, his muscles taut and suddenly, there’s the sound of gunfire.  The door slides open and there’s a bright red flash of light and the Cat lets out a high pitched shriek of pain before falling over. Lance is at the door, still in his armor, rifle at the ready.  He lowers it when he sees Keith. 

 

“Keith!” He shouts and Keith feels his muscles unraveling with relief so good he can cry.  

 

“Finally!”  Keith shouts in a strangled gasp, “Let me out of here!”  

 

Lance runs over to him, scrambles to unclip the cuffs and the collar and Keith sits up, groaning and cramping.  

 

“Right on time.”  Keith mumbles and he hugs himself as Lance unclips the cuffs on his ankles.  

 

“What did they do to you?” Lance asks, his voice is tight and there’s dangerous tinge to it that makes Keith shiver.  

 

“They-- they were weird, but they didn’t touch me.”  Keith says, his voice is shaky anyway and he can see Lance tensing up next to him.  

 

“Can you walk?”  Lance asks again,  “I’ll look around for your armor.”  

 

“I-- I think I can.”  Keith says, “It fucking wigged me out… thanks.”  

 

Lance crosses the room, goes to a hideaway shelf and pulls out the flight suit and the plates of armor.  

 

“I think more are coming.” Lance says and he dumps the pile into Keith’s arms, “We should leave.”  

 

“And we will.”  Keith says, “Where are the others?”  

 

“They isolated us, took our helmets, the place isn’t that small I think.  So maybe we can just open every cell here and they’ll come to us.” 

 

Keith holds the pile to his chest, “Sounds like a plan.” 

 

Keith slides off of the table, feet touching the dirt ground, surprised to find it soft and warm yet firm all the same.  

 

Then he’s running.  Lance is shooting the keypads to each cell, the doors flinging upward.  Creatures crawl out, partially dazed Keith starts banging on the metallic walls with his palms to catch their attention.  Lance skids to a stop when the next few doors slide open and upward Pidge ducks under the door, bayard at the ready. 

 

“Lance!” She exclaims, “Keith! Why are you naked?”  

 

“No time!” Lance shouts and he’s running again, this time Pidge by Keith’s side.  

 

Lance stops again and Shiro wobbles out, confused, but his expression brightens considerably at the sight of Lance.

 

“What happened to Keith?”  Shiro says and Lance cuts him off, 

 

“Sorry Shiro-- we gotta go.”  Lance taps the shoulder of Shiro’s armor and he’s running off again. 

 

“Where are the others?”  Shiro questions. 

 

“Don’t know.” Lance responds shortly, “Trying every cell, this place can’t be big.” 

 

“I’ll go ahead!” Pidge says, “There’s gotta be a more efficient way to do this.”  

 

Lance nods wordlessly at her, and his expression is so set and serious and Keith can’t help the sharp jagged excitement that rises in his chest.  Pidge turns, runs down the path of chaos behind them and Lance keeps running. Allura, his Mom, Coran come out of the same kennel like holding cell and soon Kosmo teleports next to him when the next door opens.  Apparently these holding cells are teleport proof. Lance opens the last cell and Hunk stumbles out. There’s a white patch on his neck, spotted with blood. 

 

_ Oh hell no.  _

 

“Let’s get out of here Hunk.”  Lance says, his voice sharp and commanding and he seems even more tense and pissed, “Pidge is gonna blow this joint up for sure.”  

 

Hunk touches the patch, nods, unusually quiet and soon Pidge returns.  

 

“There were a lot more cells!” She panted, “Had to open those up.  Gotta let them raise hell.” 

 

Lance turns to her, a roguish grin graces his features.  He ruffled her hair briefly. 

 

“Great job Pidge!”  Lance says and soon they’re running again, out into the rainbow desert.  

 

Despite the desert, Keith doesn’t feel the heat of the sand and rocks between his toes, holds his pile of armor and flight suit closer to his chest.  

 

“I think we can call on the Lions.”  Keith finds himself saying, and he feels himself reach out, feels the Hurricane and the breeze swell in the back of his mind.  Suddenly, the Black Lion is there, standing proudly before them and Keith feels another wave of relief. 

 

Flying back to the other lions proved to be easy and none of their stuff were ransacked due to their automatic particle barriers.  They were all safe and sound. Hunk’s hand is still on his neck. 

 

“What did they do to you Hunk?”  

 

“A Biopsy.”  Hunk says faintly, “I guess, just took a sample then patched me up.  They were weird.” 

 

Keith couldn’t agree more.  

 

___________

 

The lions were back in space again.  This is the second time something drastic happened, Keith finds himself counting.  He shudders, now fully clothed, unable to make his skin forget the cold metal, the panic of the cuffs, the squeezing of his chest.  

 

The dashboard lights up for a private communications request and Keith answers.  It’s Lance. 

 

“Lance.”  Keith says and Lance looks serious still, eyes flickering with concern.  

 

“Keith, are you okay?”  Lance asks and Keith raises an eyebrow.  

 

“I’ll be fine.”  Keith says, “I’m just not into being tied down.”  

 

Lance huffs a short chuckle, “Well there goes my plans.”  

 

Heat rises in Keith’s cheeks again at the implication.  He coughs. 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Keith finds himself saying, chest whirling with anxiety, excitement.  

“Anyways.”  Lance continues, ignoring Keith’s question, “Are you really okay?”  

 

Keith rubs his arm, finds that the sensation of metal burn away from his skin as he settles into the Black Lion’s chair.

 

“I think I’ll be fine.  How about you?” 

 

Lance purses his lips, there’s a beat of silence. 

 

“I’ll try to be fine.”  Lance says finally, “For you.”  

 

_ For me.   _ Keith can’t help but feel warm.  

  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hmu @ Veltron to help fill my card! Lungs-N-Langst too which is my Langst specific blog. I'm also participating in Goretober so ;)


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